Brewing Trouble
by PoeticChick
Summary: Ron decides a love potion is the only way to make Hermione fall for him, and mayhem ensues when the effects of the potion go awry. THE FINAL CHAPTER IS UP!!!!!
1. A Like Potion

Title: Brewing Trouble  
Rating: PG-13 (for mild language and slightly mature themes)  
Summary: Ron decides a love potion is the only way to make Hermione fall for him, and mayhem ensues when the effects of the potion go awry.  
Disclaimer: The plot of this story is mine, but everything else belongs to JK Rowling. Please review - I *really* appreciate feedback, especially on my first HP fic!   
  
Chapter 1 - A Like Potion  
  
"Firs' years this way!"   
It was that time of year again - the air was beginning to lose some of its warmth; the sky was growing a little darker, the breeze a little chillier, and it was the beginning of another year at Hogwarts. As the students poured off the red and black train and the frightened-looking first years followed Hagrid to the boats, Ron Weasley pulled his robes closed over his sweater and slacks and glanced around. Ahead of him, Harry Potter was talking animatedly with Fred and George Weasley about Quidditch and Ginny was trailing behind them, her eyes shining as she watched Harry talk and gesture.   
Ron shook his head. It was glaringly obvious to him that his younger sister had fallen head over heels for his best friend, and it pained him to watch her follow him around. It wasn't that Harry was cold or spiteful to Ginny; he honestly had no idea that the fourth year had a crush on him. Ginny would always, Ron mused, be, in Harry's eyes, Ron's little sister and nothing more. Ron knew first hand how difficult it could be to change someone's perception of you.   
Look at her, mooning after him like a puppy dog, Ron thought. Really, it was rather pitiful. Why couldn't she focus her efforts on someone attainable?   
"Come along, Ron!" Hermione Granger brushed past Ron, her bushy hair fluttering and blowing in the wind. She glanced back at him as she trotted alongside Harry.  
Unlike me, Ron thought wryly. He really had no right to criticize Ginny, especially when he was in the exact same predicament. He'd had a crush on Hermione since first year, since the incident with the troll in the girl's bathroom. He didn't think he'd ever forget the look of pure terror on Hermione's face as the troll lumbered up to her, swinging his club violently; equally vivid in his mind was the expression on Hermione's face after he brought the troll down - her eyes shone and as she brushed a strand of hair out her eyes, she flashed Ron a wide, grateful smile. That smile made the danger he and Harry had been in completely worth it, every sweaty, trembling second.  
Ron felt his cheeks flush as he glanced at Hermione again. She was chatting with Ginny, and they were giggling about something. As Hermione tossed her head, she looked back at Ron again and waved him to come and join them. Gulping and shutting all of his feelings away, Ron smiled weakly and ran to walk beside his friends.   
The annual Sorting and the beginning-of-term feast were bright and fun, but for some reason Ron couldn't get himself as excited as he was in past years. He was still preoccupied with Hermione. Like at the beginning of every year, he wondered whether or not the upcoming year would be his year, the year he worked up enough courage to tell Hermione how he felt. He'd though about this for the past three years and every year ended the same - Hermione regarded him as one of her best friends, and his crush just grew worse.  
Ron rolled onto his side in bed. All of the lights were out in Gryffendor Tower, and, from the sound of it, everyone else in the dorm was asleep. Ron glanced at Neville, who was snoring peacefully, and rolled onto his back. And then his side again. And then his stomach.  
With a groan of frustration, Ron threw back the covers, slid his feet into his slippers, and stomped across the room. As he pulled open the door, he heard a whisper.  
"Psst! Ron - what are you doing?" Harry was sitting up in bed, fumbling for his glasses as he regarded his friend inquisitively.   
"Can't sleep," Ron replied. "Thought I might just sit in the common room and...sit."  
"Want some company?" Harry asked. When Ron finally nodded, Harry swung his legs out of bed and, wrapping his dressing gown around his body, padded down the stairs behind his friend. They settled in two chairs by the fire in the common room.  
"Is anything the matter, Ron?" Harry asked, "You seemed upset on the train ride."  
Ron drew his knees under his chin and wrapped his arms around his legs. He'd never told Harry about his feelings for Hermione for fear that maybe Harry was having the same feelings, but at the moment he was feeling so overwhelmed that he knew he needed to confide in his friend. He took a deep breath.  
"I like Hermione," he blurted, "And not just like a friend. Like...like a girl." He glanced warily at Harry, trying to gauge his reaction.   
"I know," Harry said simply. Ron's mouth dropped open.  
"You know?" he exclaimed. "How do you know? Who told you? I haven't told anyone! Am I really that obvious?"  
"It's only obvious to me because you're my best friend," Harry explained, "And I wasn't positive, but I reckoned that you did after you got all shirty when Hermione and Krum went to the ball together."   
Ron scowled. "Krum, that git. He wasn't right for her." He paused for a moment before crying, "Do you think Hermione knows I like her?"  
Harry shook his head. "Hermione is the cleverest witch you could ever find, but when it comes to things besides bookwork and spells...she's not the quickest to catch on."  
Ron sighed with relief. "I couldn't stand knowing that she's known all these years and that she...that she pities me for my silly little crush."  
"Are you ever going to tell her?" Harry asked.  
"And ruin what the three of us have got? I can't!" Ron exclaimed, "We're best friends, the three of us, and if she knew I liked her...it would all be rather awkward, don't you think?"  
"I suppose you're right," Harry mulled, "But you never know, do you? What if she likes you back and has been too scared to say anything all these years?"  
"Hermione? Too scared to say something?" Ron said incredulously.  
"Remember what I said about how Hermione works," Harry reminded him, "She gets high marks in everything academic but when it comes to social situations and romance...remember when she tried to convince Lavender that there was no reason to be sad about her bunny?"  
Ron laughed despite himself. "And the time she told off Draco Malfoy before potions? Good times, those were...hey!" he exclaimed, an idea beginning for form in his mind. "Potions...what if I made a love potion? Then Hermione would have to return my feelings!"  
"Come on, Ron, be serious," Harry said. "Besides the fact that I don't think either you or I could brew a complex potion without Hermione's help, do you really want her to like you just because she's bewitched?"  
Ron frowned. "You're right again," he said, "but what if I diluted all the ingredients in the potion? You know...just made her a little warmer towards me and then let my charm and wit do the rest?" He grinned. "Instead of a love potion, it'd be...a like potion. Then it wouldn't *really* be against school rules, right?"  
Harry thought for a moment. "If you really think we could do it," he said, "I'll help you get the ingredients together. Who knows, maybe we could give Professor Snape some of it before classes start so he won't give us detentions for breathing too loudly!"  
As the fire died down, the boys plotted everything out. They'd go to the library the next day, after breakfast - it would be their only free day before classes began, so they'd have to work quickly to get the potion done while they had enough free time.  
Back in bed, Ron snuggled down under the covers, a smile playing with his lips. He was going to share his feelings with Hermione at last - and if everything went well in the cauldron, she would return his affections. This was going to be an exceptionally good year, he could feel it. 


	2. Trouble Is Brewing

Title: Brewing Trouble  
Rating: PG-13 (for mild language and mature themes)  
Summary: Ron decides a love potion is the only way to make Hermione fall for him, and mayhem ensues when the effects of the potion go awry.  
Disclaimer: The plot of this story is mine, but everything else belongs to JK Rowling. Please review - I really appreciate feedback!  
  
Thanks to Sandi, Miss Bea Granger, and Missbean for the feedback and the suggestions regarding the format. Hope this is a little easier to read! : )  
  
Chapter 2 - Trouble Is Brewing  
  
The next morning, the two boys awoke, hurriedly dressed, and scooted down to the Great Hall for a quick bite before rushing off to scour the books in the library for a recipe for a love potion. They arrived at the library at 8 o'clock, panting and red-faced.   
  
"This had better be worth it," Harry grumbled, brushing some toast crumbs off the front of his robe, "Quidditch practice is supposed to start today, and I'm missing it."  
  
"It will all pay off in the long run," Ron said, plunking himself down at a table next to a shelf of books. "Is there anyone that you want to give the potion to?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "After what happened during the Triwizard Tournament last year, I don't think Cho is looking for a boyfriend anytime soon - and especially not me." He sighed. "I'll just help you. Come on, then."  
  
They each gathered an armful of books from various parts of the library and returned to the table to search. Their efforts were fruitless for quite a while until Harry stumbled upon a small book with a pink cover and gold binding.   
  
"'Love's Labors Lessened,'" he read, "'Make yourself more attractive to the opposite sex with an Enticing Enchantment'...here it is, Ron! 'Make that special someone fall wand over feet in love with you!'"  
  
"That sounds perfect!" Ron exclaimed, flipping open the book. He scooted his chair next to Harry's and they looked over the ingredients of the potion. "Frozen Ashwinder eggs - I'll bet Hagrid'd have some of those - crushed ginger root, armadillo bile - we've got both of those - dried nettles - easy to find...this potion doesn't sound terribly difficult, Harry."  
  
"You're right," Harry agreed. "'Simmer over a low flame for thirty minutes and drain the dregs, bring to a rolling bubble, skim off the foam, and bottle.' We'll be able to do this, easy."  
  
"What are we waiting for, then?" Ron asked, slamming the book shut. He stuck it inside his robes and followed Harry out of the library, running smack into -   
  
"Hermione," Ron breathed. Although classes hadn't begun, she already had a stack of books in one arm and some scrolls of parchment in the other. Her cheeks were flushed from her heavy load, and she regarded the boys quizzically.  
  
"What are you doing in the library?" she demanded, pursing her lips.  
  
"We were...researching." Ron said.   
  
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Researching?" she sniffed. "You two never do research."  
  
"Well, we do now," Harry said quickly, grabbing Ron's sleeve, "Good-bye, Hermione!" He pulled Ron down the hall, leaving Hermione shaking her head, and they quickly ducked into the nearest stairwell.  
  
"That was close!" Ron breathed.   
  
"Maybe if you were a better liar..." Harry laughed. "Researching?"  
  
"It was all I could think of," Ron replied weakly. After catching their breath, the boys split apart. Ron went back to Gryffendor House to gather the ingredients he had in his potions set, and Harry stopped by Hagrid's cottage to see if he had any Ashwinder eggs. Both boys were successful in their scavenging, and they met in the bathroom where their illicit potion making began - Moaning Myrtle's.  
  
"I've got my cauldron," Ron panted. He put his potion set on the floor and filled the cauldron with water. He plopped down next to his things and opened the pink book.  
  
"'Eight Ashwinder eggs, frozen' - better make that four if we're going for like instead of love," he said. Harry nodded and dropped four of the frozen eggs into the cauldron.   
  
"'Three medium-sized ginger roots, crushed,'" Ron continued. He shoved the roots over to Harry, who proceeded to chop and crush them. He sprinkled them around the eggs. "'Two cupfuls of armadillo bile.'" He filled two half-cups with the bile and poured them into the cauldron. The eggs hissed.   
  
"'Two handfuls of dried nettles' - well that's rather subjective, don't you think?" Ron said indignantly. He picked up the flask of nettles that Harry collected on his way to Hagrid's cottage and after looking at them for a moment or two, sprinkled some into the cauldron.   
  
"Incendio!" Harry aimed his wand, and a small cluster of flames popped up on the countertop beside the sinks.   
  
"Wingardium leviosa!" Ron levitated the cauldron over the flames and sat back, shoving his wand into his pocket. "Now, we wait."  
  
The potion had been simmering for a little over a quarter of an hour when, down from the roof, swooped Myrtle.  
  
"What are we doing, then?" she shrieked, the tip of her nose inches from Harry, who recoiled and nearly fell over the closed potion book. Myrtle glanced down, and her eyes lit up - as much as the eyes of a ghost could light up. "Making a naughty potion?" she squealed. "Trouble is brewing, I can smell it! I bet you're going to get caught!"   
  
"We're not going to get caught- not if you shut your big mouth!" Ron hissed. He immediately regretted his words as Myrtle screwed up her pimpled face and began to wail.  
  
"HOW COULD YOU TELL ME THAT?" Myrtle howled.  
  
"Myrtle, I'm sorry!" Ron cried.  
  
"How about I just go back to my toilet and never, ever talk to you again? Then you'll be sorry! Then you'll wish you hadn't called me a big-mouth!" With one last screech, Myrtle dove into her toilet, sending water splashing everywhere. It didn't put out the flame, however, and Ron breathed a sigh of relief as Harry peered into the cauldron.  
  
"I think it's ready, Ron," he said. Ron pulled a little spoon out of his robes and scooped out the lees at the bottom of the cauldron and dropped them into the sink. He magicked the cauldron back over the flames, and settled against the wall again.   
  
"Be careful not to let it get too hot, Ron," said Harry, consulting the book. "If we let it boil for too long, it says it will 'retain its original potency regardless of any ingredient changes.'"  
  
When the reddish liquid began to bubble, Ron grabbed a stirring rod and skimmed off the thick white foam. He pulled small glass flask from his potion set, ladled some of the potion into it, plugged it with a cork, and slipped it into the pocket of his robes.   
  
"Now," said Ron, "We pay a visit to the kitchen."  
When they arrived ten minutes later in the broad, bright corridor that was the route to Hogwarts' kitchen, Harry turned to Ron.  
  
"Are you positive about this?" He asked, running a hand through his tussled hair.  
  
"Of course I am!" Ron exclaimed, "We've come this far, haven't we?"  
  
"I know..." Harry trailed off. "What if it doesn't work? Or what if something terrible happens and Hermione gets really sick? We'd be responsible - and we'd have to own up to what we did. Besides that fact that potions like this are against the rules, can you imagine Hermione's reaction?"  
  
"I'm usually the one with cold feet!" Ron laughed, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Everything will work out fine, Harry, I'm sure of it. Now, come on before someone catches us down here." He reached out his right hand and tickled a large green pear that was painted comfortably in a silver fruit bowl. The pear began to squirm and jump and abruptly morphed into a door handle, which Ron twisted.  
  
As they walked into the brightly lit, high-ceilinged kitchen, a small, skinny creature leapt out from behind a large copper pot and fell upon their necks, squealing excitedly.  
  
"Hello sirs! Hello sirs!"   
  
"Dobby!" Harry cried happily. Despite the odd little creature's annoying voice and nerve-wearing enthusiasm, Harry was rather fond of him - and the feeling was mutual.  
  
"Dobby is so happy to see you, Harry Potter, sir! And you, Wheezy, sir!" Dobby squealed, attaching himself to Ron's leg.   
  
Ron reached down and awkwardly patted Dobby on the head. "We've got a favor to ask you, Dobby," he said.  
  
Dobby pulled back at stared up at Ron with his large, watery eyes. "Dobby is thrilled to do anything Wheezy asks of Dobby."   
  
"This is very important, Dobby," Ron said gravely, "And we need you to listen very carefully - and more importantly, don't tell anyone."  
  
"Dobby won't tell no one, Wheezy!" Dobby swore, placing his spindly fingers on his purple and red plaid sweater that was, of course, two sizes too large.   
  
Ron crouched down so he was face to face with Dobby and pulled out the flask. "We need you to sneak a little bit of this into a certain person's pumpkin juice tonight, Dobby."  
  
Dobby clasped his hands, obviously overjoyed that the boys had come to him for this very important deed. "Dobby will do whatever Wheezy and Harry Potter need him to do, sirs!"  
  
"Pour a bit, just a bit, into a goblet of pumpkin juice tonight, Dobby, and be sure that Hermione Granger gets it, all right?" Harry said, crouching down beside Ron.  
  
"Miss Hermione, sirs? Dobby remembers Miss Hermione well!" Dobby cried. "Dobby will be glad to give Miss Hermione a special treat."  
  
"Mind not to pour too much in, Dobby," Ron added, "The book said that an overdose could lead to stupor or aggressive behavior."  
  
"You didn't read me that part!" Harry exclaimed. "Aggressive behavior?"  
  
"If Dobby gives Hermione the proper dose, there's no need to worry," Ron said firmly. You've got it down?" he asked Dobby, rising.  
  
"Dobby puts a few drops of Wheezy's special treat in Miss Hermione's pumpkin juice," Dobby reiterated, comfortingly patting Ron's knee. "Dobby understands, sirs. Now, would the sirs like some tea?"  
  
"Sure!" Ron said eagerly. In less than a minute, he and Harry were settled on two low stools next to the fireplace with mugs of steaming tea and a huge plate of crumbly pastries between them. In between bites, Ron turned to Harry and whispered, "You're sure Dobby will be able carry this off?"  
  
"If there's anything Dobby hates, it's letting people down," Harry said confidently. "Ron, by tonight, you'll be staring into Hermione's pretty eyes instead Dobby's...bulgy ones." He and Ron burst into laughter, but as Ron reached for another biscuit, he thought to himself: and it will be the best feeling in the world! 


	3. The Dinner

Title: Brewing Trouble  
Rating: PG-13 (for mild language and mature themes)  
Summary: Ron decides a love potion is the only way to make Hermione fall for him, and mayhem ensues when the effects of the potion go awry.  
Disclaimer: The plot of this story is mine, but everything else belongs to JK Rowling. Please review - feedback means a lot to me!   
  
Chapter 3 - The Dinner  
  
Now, all Ron could do was wait. Instead of lounging lazily by the pond or playing a low-key game of Quidditch with Fred and George, he paced the fifth year boys' dormitory, anxiously wringing his hands and muttering to himself as the afternoon dragged on.  
  
"Fancy a game of Exploding Snap, Ron?" Neville Longbottom asked cheerily, poking his head into the dorm.  
  
"No thanks, Neville," Ron said uninterestedly, throwing himself into an armchair.  
  
"Are you sure?" Neville asked. "I won't be able to singe my eyebrows off this time." Ron glanced at the two bare spots above Neville's eyes and smothered a laugh.  
  
"I'm fine, Neville, thanks." Ron replied. Neville trotted out of the dorm as Harry walked in.  
  
"How about a game of Wizard's Chess?" Harry asked, perching on the bed beside Ron.  
  
"No thanks," Ron said. "I can't concentrate on anything - I'm too nervous about tonight."  
  
"You have to relax," Harry said, patting his friend's arm. "Dinner's in an hour and if you keep on like this, I don't think you'll make it."  
  
Harry eventually left the dorm, unable to calm Ron in the least, and Ron was left alone with his thoughts again. How would Hermione react to the potion? Would she be aware that she was bewitched? How long would it be before the potion took effect? What if, even with the potion, she still thought of him as her friend?   
  
You have to stop thinking, a voice in Ron's head exclaimed, Harry was right; you're going to drive yourself completely mad. Agitatedly, Ron leaned over to his trunk and pulled out the pink spellbook. He flipped through the book, glancing at pictures of moony witches and wizards gazing gooey-eyed at one another. He shook his head - you're mad already, he thought.  
  
Finally, the clock struck six, and Ron bounded down the stairs, colliding with another body that was hurrying into the Common Room. Ron reached out to steady whoever it was and found himself face to face with Hermione. He quickly realized he had an arm around her waist and let go of her so quickly she nearly fell over.  
  
"You're going to make a habit of doing this, then?" Hermione asked teasingly, nudging Ron with her elbow.  
"Um. What?" Ron felt color creeping up his neck.   
  
"Running into me - literally. You've done it twice just today," Hermione explained as they walked together out of Gryffendor Tower and down the hall with the other students.   
  
"Um, yeah. No." Ron gulped. "I think you're the one who's always running into me," he said, recovering some of his composure.  
  
"Whatever." Hermione grinned. "I'm so hungry - I hope there are some more of those battered chicken wings at dinner tonight. They were delicious last night."  
  
"Yeah, I liked those too," Ron said as they entered the Great Hall. The ceiling was a mass of orange, yellow, and purple swirls - outside Hogwarts, the sun just beginning to set behind the hills and the sky was alive with vibrant colors. Ron sat down beside Harry at the Gryffendor table, and Hermione sat across from them. Once everyone was gathered together, Professor Dumbledore waved a hand from his seat at the front of the Hall, and the tables were laden with food. Platters of chicken and pork were scattered among bowls of whipped potatoes, corn, and stewed carrots, and tureens of soup and gravy. Ron, Harry, and Hermione helped themselves to a little bit of everything and began to eat.  
  
Ron lifted a forkful of roasted pork to his mouth and paused, the fork hovering by his chin. Hermione was daintily blotting her lips with a napkin and reaching for her goblet. Ron nearly dropped his fork as he kicked Harry under the table. The two of them watched carefully as Hermione took a sip from her goblet, set it back on the table, and cut herself another slice of roasted pork, setting it neatly beside her mound of potatoes and gravy.  
  
Ron breathed a sigh of relief. Hermione obviously hadn't noticed anything funny in her goblet, as she was eating and drinking with gusto, visibly pleased to be back at school. Ron wiped his forehead with his napkin and turned his attention to his dinner.   
  
"Good carrots, eh, Harry?" he said, spooning himself more stewed carrots. Harry nodded slowly. He was staring into space, trailing his spoon absently through his food, leaving little trails of gravy all around his plate.  
  
"All right, Harry?" Ron asked, looking a little more closely at his friend. Harry gave himself a shake and turned back to his dinner.  
  
"Fine, just fine," he replied, reaching for the gravy boat.  
  
The rest of dinner went by uneventfully. Ginny Weasley did spill her goblet of pumpkin juice down her front, and she turned a brilliant shade of scarlet when Draco Malfoy, the spiteful and malevolent fifth year that remained Harry's nemesis, shouted mockingly at her from the Slytherin table.   
  
"Don't mind him, Ginny," Harry called to her from down the table, seeing her distress. "Malfoy doesn't know the first thing about good manners."  
  
Ginny flashed Harry a grateful smile before going an even deeper shade of red and quickly turning back to her meal. Ron chuckled and took a long drink of pumpkin juice.   
  
Dessert passed equally uneventfully, and the trio of friends stuffed themselves with trifle and treacle tart. They all ate just as well as they had at the feast the night before.   
  
"I think I'm about to burst!" Hermione said, her hand on her stomach. "I think I'm going to go to back to the Common Room and read - Madame Pince got a new book over the summer about the evolution of the broomstick. I think it sounds positively fascinating."  
  
"Sounds positively mind-numbing," said Ron. He and Harry both rose to follow Hermione back to Gryffendor Tower, unable to eat another bite.   
  
As they walked through the halls, Ron leaned over to Harry and whispered, "D'you think the potion's taken affect yet, Harry?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "Give it a while," he said, "We'll see in the morning."  
  
Hermione stopped in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Billywig." Hermione said, and the portrait swung open. She climbed into the Common Room and turned to face the boys. "I'm going to bed. I'll meet you in the Great Hall for breakfast before classes start?"  
  
Harry and Ron nodded. "Sleep tight," Ron added as Hermione climbed the stairs to the girls' dorm room. When she disappeared from view, he stretched and yawned.  
  
"Believe it or not, I think I'm going to turn in too," he said, "All this worrying has got me exhausted."  
"I think I'm going to stay up for a while," Harry said, sitting down in an armchair beside Lavender Brown, who was looking intently at a book on palmistry.   
  
"All right. I'll see you later," Ron said, leaving Harry curled up in the chair. He slowly climbed the stairs and opened the door to the boys' dorm. It was empty - he'd seen his other roommates, Neville, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan, clustered around the chessboard in the Common Room, and he knew they wouldn't go to bed until very late, especially if Neville decided he wouldn't stop playing until he'd won a game. Like magic, chess was not something Neville particularly excelled at.  
  
"Oh well, more time for me," Ron said sleepily, shuffling over to his bed. He changed into his striped pajamas, tossing his clothes into his open trunk. As he pulled back the blanket and bedcovers, he paused. Then he turned and left the dormitory. He walked down the hall and into the girl's wing. Before he could lose his nerve, he rapped on the fifth year girls' door.  
  
After a minute, Hermione opened the door. Like Ron, she was the only one that had decided to go to bed, although Ron could see her library book, her Potions text, and some parchment sitting on the floor of the empty dorm room. Meanwhile, Hermione was tapping her slippered foot, an expression of impatience on her face.  
  
"Do you need something, Ron?" she asked, pulling her robe more tightly around her body.  
  
"No, nothing," Ron said, "Just wanted to...say good night again."   
  
"Good night." Hermione said, a note of confusion in her voice. She smiled uneasily at Ron and gently closed the door. Ron turned around and went back to his room. He climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. This is the last time I'll go to sleep without Hermione knowing how I feel about her, he thought, snuggling into bed. Then he felt silly for thinking something so sappy, and that was the last thought he had before he drifted off to sleep.  
A/N: Poor unsuspecting Ron...he has no idea what he's in for when he wakes up. Thanks for the reviews, everyone, I hope you liked this chapter! 


	4. Bloody Hell

Title: Brewing Trouble  
Rating: PG-13 (for mild language and slightly immature themes)  
Summary: Ron decides a love potion is the only way to make Hermione fall for him, and mayhem ensues when the effects of the potion go awry.  
Disclaimer: The plot of this story is mine, but everything else belongs to JK Rowling. Thanks to everyone for the wonderful comments, I really appreciate them!  
Chapter 4 - Bloody Hell  
  
Early-morning sunlight streamed through the curtains on the dorm windows, spreading like butter over Ron's bed. When he awoke, squinting in the brightness, he saw that Harry's bed was empty. Frowning, he rolled over to look in the other beds. Seamus and Dean were sound asleep, and Neville was snoring loudly, as usual. Ron slipped his arms into his dressing gown as he climbed out of bed and slipped out of the room.   
  
"Psst! Ron!"   
  
Ron spun around to find Hermione waving cheerily at him as she bounded down the stairs. "I won't be able to meet you for breakfast," she whispered, "I've arranged to meet with Professor Snape to discuss the upcoming lesson on Memory Potions and I'm running late."  
  
Ron squinted at Hermione. It was quite early in the morning, but she was bright-eyed and pink-cheeked. Very pink-cheeked, in fact. "Bloody hell, Hermione," exclaimed Ron, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, "Are you wearing makeup?"  
  
Hermione sniffed and tossed her bushy hair. "Of course not," she scoffed, clutching her books to her chest. "Besides, is it a crime to want to look nice?" With that, she brushed past Ron and out of the Tower. Ron had no time to mull this over because no more than a moment had passed when Harry burst into the Common Room, panting loudly.  
"Has she left yet?" he demanded, running up to Ron.  
  
"What?" Ron asked. "Where were you?"  
  
Harry patted his hair as he replied, "Getting some breakfast. I've got a muffin for Hermione." He held out a chocolate-chip muffin for Ron to see.  
  
"Why are you bringing her a muffin?" Ron asked, his brow furrowed.   
  
"I thought she might be hungry," Harry said, hurrying back to the portrait. "I'll see you later, Ron."   
  
Ron stood in the middle of the Common Room in his dressing gown and pajamas, a very confused expression on his face. Harry and Hermione were both acting rather strangely - and Hermione was showing no signs of falling for him. Maybe the potion took quite a while to work, Ron thought hopefully. There was no other explanation. And as for Harry...well, Ron hadn't figured that out. He made a mental note to talk to his friend in double Potions, their first class.  
  
"Get out parchment and quills." Professor Snape slammed open the door of the dungeon where Potions classes were held and stormed into the room, his black robes billowing. He rather reminded Ron of a storm cloud - menacing and ominous and always bringing lots of darkness to Ron's mood.  
  
Ron pulled out a sheet of parchment. As Professor Snape began to talk, listing the ingredients in Memory Potions, Ron leaned over to Harry, who was on his right, and whispered, "Have you seen any change in Hermione yet?"  
  
Harry never took his eyes off Snape as he whispered back, "She looks better and better each time I see her."  
  
Ron frowned in confusion. "What?"  
  
"Hermione," Harry said, his voice taking on a dreamy quality. "She looks more beautiful and vibrant each time I see her." He sighed, starry-eyed.  
  
"What are you playing at?" Ron demanded a little more loudly than he'd intended. Lavender Brown turned around to stare at him and Snape paused in his lecture, his eyes narrowing.  
  
"It seems that Mr. Weasley has something more important to talk about than Memory Potions," he said bitterly, "Ten points from Gryffendor."  
  
"What?" Ron exclaimed indignantly, practically leaping out of his chair. Hermione, seated on his other side, grabbed the sleeve of his robes and yanked him back down. He glared at her, but she was already completely focused on Professor Snape, who had moved on with the lesson. Ron shook his head and jammed his quill into his bottle of ink. The day was not getting off to a good start.  
  
Things did not improve throughout Potions. The notes were long, and Ron twice caught Hermione playing with her hair or crossing her legs whenever Snape paced near their table. When they'd finally finished their notes on Memory Potions, it was time to actually brew the potion, and as Ron hadn't been paying attention to a word Snape had said, he didn't know where to begin.  
  
"Harry, what comes first?" Ron asked, lifting two flasks of brightly colored liquid, one scarlet and one blue. "I must have missed this part."  
  
Harry shrugged and dumped an entire bowl of dandelion roots into their cauldron. He sighed again and leaned over Ron to gaze at Hermione. Ron pinched him.  
  
"Snap out of it, you," he hissed, uneasily watching Harry watch Hermione, who was humming to herself as she stirred her bubbling potion. "Oi! Hermione!" he whispered. "Which of these comes first?"  
  
"You should have been paying attention," Hermione said virtuously, tapping a bit of a white powder into her cauldron. "Professor Snape clearly gave us directions. He's such a brilliant teacher," she said, smiling to herself. Ron looked at her with a mixture of horror and bewilderment on his face.  
  
"We hate him, Hermione, remember?" he said. "He's a malicious, unfair - " and he called Snape a word that made Hermione gasp with indignation.  
  
"You just don't like him because he caught you talking," she said huffily, turning her back on Ron. "*I* think he's brilliant."  
  
"Yeah, you said that already," Ron grumbled, turning back to his cauldron. Harry, whom he'd assumed was working on the potion while he talked to Hermione, was, in fact, seated at the table and sketching a girl with long hair and a wand. "What the bloody hell is that?" Ron poked a finger at Harry's drawing.  
  
"Nothing." Harry folded the sketch and slipped it into the pocket of his robes. Ron rolled his eyes  
.  
Finally, it was time for lunch. Ron was the first one out of the dungeon doors and was halfway down the hall before he realized he was alone. He slowly walked back to the Potions classroom and poked his head in the door. Hermione was chatting with Professor Snape, her books cradled in one arm as she twirled a strand of hair with another. Harry was slowly gathering together his things while watching Professor Snape with a very sour expression.  
  
"Come on, come on," Ron said, stacking Harry's books for him and shoved them into his friend's arms. Hermione finished her conversation with Snape, and the trio strolled out of the dungeon and up the stairs. When they got to the Great Hall, they took three seats at the end of the table, away from everyone else, and dug into their shepherd's pie.  
  
"Wasn't the Potions lesson interesting?" Hermione asked gaily, swirling her fork in her pie.  
  
"Captivating." Ron said dryly, stabbing a carrot much harder than necessary.  
  
"I think Hermione's captivating." Harry said. When both Hermione and Ron turned to stare at him, his cheeks turned pink and he focused on his lunch.  
  
"You're acting rather strange, Harry," Ron said tightly, feeling his ears turn red as Hermione blushed and dropped her fork on the floor. Before she could lean to pick it up, Harry dove under the table and emerged a few seconds later with her fork.  
  
"Er, thanks," Hermione said. "I'll just take that, then." She plucked the fork from Harry's fingers and laid it on the table as Harry took his seat again, glancing smugly at Ron. Ron sighed loudly.  
  
"Anyone sitting here?" Ginny Weasley asked, plopping into the chair across from Harry. She picked up her silverware and flashed Harry a bright smile before beginning to eat. "Oh, Harry!" she exclaimed suddenly. "Harry, this is so good - you have to try it!" She scooped a small piece of her shepherd's pie onto her fork and held it across the table for Harry to taste. After a moment of hesitation, Harry opened his mouth, and Ginny fed him the pie. Ron and Hermione, watching in disbelief, simply sat in silence as Harry nodded and wiped his mouth with his napkin. Ginny sat back in her chair, satisfaction written all over her face.  
  
Now, thought Ron, I know for sure something is up - usually, Ginny couldn't even string two words together when Harry's around, and now she was feeding him like a little lapdog.  
  
"Oh!" As Professor Snape walked by the Great Hall, Hermione threw down her napkin and leapt out of her chair, nearly falling on her face when the sleeve of her robe caught the finial on her chair. She regained her footing and sprinted out of the Hall after Professor Snape.   
  
"What's got her flipped out?" Ginny asked, lazily reclining in her chair, her legs crossed.  
  
"I haven't the slightest idea," Ron said, shaking his head for what seemed to him to be the millionth time that day. "If you find out, you'll let me know?" He was about to make a cutting remark to Harry, who was staring stupidly at the door, when Draco Malfoy strolled up to the Gryffendor table.  
  
"Get lost, Malfoy," Ron spat. Malfoy's face twisted into an expression of contempt as he sneered at Ron and took Hermione's chair and turned towards Ginny.  
  
"I apologize for my comment at dinner last night, Ginny," Malfoy said, his icy gray eyes softening and his voice suddenly losing all arrogance and malice and sounding - could it be? - downright friendly. He reached out a long, pale hand, and patted Ginny's hand.   
  
"I was in a horrid mood," Malfoy continued, "Let me make it up to you. How about a picnic tonight in the Astronomy Tower?"  
  
Ginny recoiled, yanking her hand away from Malfoy's and standing up so quickly she nearly knocked over her chair. "How dare you come onto me, Malfoy?" she hissed, "How dare you when I'm so obviously involved with Harry?"  
"What?" Malfoy spat.  
  
"WHAT?" Ron shouted. He, too, leapt from his chair and, grabbing Ginny's arm, hauled her out of the Great Hall, leaving behind a dumbfounded Harry and an incensed Malfoy. When they got into the corridor, Ginny pulled her arm out of Ron's grip and glared at him.  
  
"How could you humiliate me like that?" she cried, crossing her arms over her chest. "You embarrassed me in front of Harry!"  
  
"Bloody hell, Ginny!" Ron exclaimed. "We all knew you fancied Harry, but I didn't know it'd got this far - you're delusional!"  
  
"You're so cruel!" Ginny wailed, suddenly bursting into tears. "Why can't you be happy for us? He's your best friend, you should be happy he's found someone to love."  
  
"BUT HE HASN'T!" Ron bellowed, shaking his sniffling sister by the shoulders. "You're making a fool of yourself, Ginny! Harry's not in love with you, any more than - "  
  
"Hermione's in love with you?" Ginny shot back nastily. She smirked through her tears, knowing she'd hit a nerve.  
  
"You're acting most unlike yourself, Ginny," Ron said weakly, his anger replaced by hurt. "Behaving like a - a scarlet woman around Harry...hollering at me..."  
  
"You hollered at me first, and I didn't say anything you didn't already know." Ginny said delicately. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to finish my lunch with Harry." And with that, she flounced back into the Great Hall. Ron, however, slid down to the floor, leaning against the cool wall of the corridor. WHAT was going on? Everyone was going mad, and he knew it wasn't his imagination.   
  
It will get better, Ron told himself tiredly, you'll go to Transfiguration and then to the Tower and you'll go to bed early and everything will be normal tomorrow. With only his pitiful plan keeping him from banging his head against the wall, Ron pulled himself to his feet and set off for Transfiguration.   
A/N: But what will happen in Transfiguration? Ron's troubles are only beginning! : ) 


	5. The Incident in the Library

Title: Brewing Trouble  
Rating: PG-13 (for mild language and slightly immature themes)  
Summary: Ron decides a love potion is the only way to make Hermione fall for him, and mayhem ensues when the effects of the potion go awry.  
Disclaimer: The plot of this story is mine, but everything else belongs to JK Rowling. Please keep the reviews coming, they're greatly appreciated!  
  
Chapter 5 - The Incident in the Library  
  
In Transfiguration, however, things just got worse. The Gryffendors had the class with the Slytherins, which meant Malfoy was within easy pummeling distance, but Ron knew he could do nothing under Professor McGonagall's watchful eye.   
  
If his friends were there for him, Ron thought, it wouldn't be nearly as bad, but Hermione was doodling hearts around a pair of S's and Harry (Ron made sure he was seated between Harry and Hermione) had his chin in his hand and was staring longingly at Hermione. Ron resisted the urge to jab Harry in the ribs with his wand and focused his attention on Professor McGonagall.  
  
"Today, we will be turning silverware into flowers," McGonagall said. "This may seem like a second-year transformation, but changing an inanimate object into something alive, no matter how simple the organism, can be tricky. Watch me first. Hold your wands in the air...forcula floreo!" She waved her wand, and the silver fork that was sitting on her desk morphed into a beautiful red rose. Looking a little proud despite herself, McGonagall presented the flower to Lavender Brown, who giggled and glanced back at Ron, and turned to face the class. "Who would like to go first?"  
  
Hermione's hand shot up. She cleared her throat, rolled up her sleeves, and said in a loud, clear voice, "Forcula floreo!" The fork that was lying on her desk seemed to shimmer for a moment before turning into a daffodil.  
  
"With practice, you will be able to control what flower your forks turn into," McGonagall said. "Five points to Gryffendor for an excellent first transformation by Miss Granger. Practice the spell in pairs."  
  
Ron reluctantly scooted his chair closer to Harry's, and Hermione motioned for Neville to come sit beside her. "You want to go first or shall I?" said Ron, shoving a fork towards Harry. Harry picked it up and looked at it dreamily.  
  
"I handed Hermione her fork," he said, a goofy smile spreading across his face. Ron rolled his eyes and picked up his wand.   
  
"Forcula floreo!" Ron pointed his wand at the fork and after some hesitant shimmering, it sprouted leaves. "Your turn," Ron said, regarding his flourishing fork with disgust.   
  
"Forcula floreo!" Harry said listlessly, jerking his wand towards his fork. It twitched and jerked and finally melted into a small lily. Harry picked up the lily, sniffed it, and set it aside. Ron sighed.   
  
Half an hour later, Harry had a pile of lilies sitting beside him and Ron had a mound of green, mossy forks. He was at least doing better than Neville, however - poor Neville had melted four forks into silver puddles. He had managed to turn one into a dandelion, though it still had one prong sticking out of its middle.   
  
"Do you think Ginny will like these?" Ron glanced over his shoulder and saw Malfoy holding up a small bouquet of pink roses. Pansy Parkinson, who was seated beside Malfoy, shrugged uninterestedly and turned back to Goyle, with whom she was holding hands.   
  
"I don't know what your plan is, Malfoy," Ron said hotly, "But Ginny doesn't want to have anything to do with you."  
  
"Then she can tell me herself," Malfoy said pleasantly, running his thumb along the edge of the stem of one of his roses.   
  
"She doesn't want to talk to you," said Ron.  
  
"Why don't we let Ginny decide that for herself?" asked Malfoy logically. "She's a big girl."  
  
Ron clenched his fists and turned back to Harry - Harry?   
  
"Hermione, I'd be honored if you'd accept these flowers." Ron whirled around to find Harry on bended knee, presenting Hermione with the lilies that he'd made. Hermione reddened and dutifully accepted the flowers. Ron sighed again.   
  
Transfiguration had ended a few hours ago, and Ron's plan to curl up in bed had been abandoned. Both Snape and McGonagall had piled on the homework, and he, Hermione, and Harry were working together on an essay about inanimate-to-animate transfigurations. They were seated at a long table in the library, surrounded by books and scrolls of parchment.   
  
"D'you like the flowers I gave you, Hermione?" Harry asked bashfully, glancing up from his textbook to stare at Hermione.  
  
"They're very nice, Harry," Hermione said patiently. He'd asked her the same question three other times during their time at the library, and Ron swore to himself that if he asked one more time, he'd smack Harry across the face, best friend or no. And right now, Harry's position as his best friend was rather shaky thanks to his little flirtations with Hermione, Ron thought sourly. He was mystified by Harry's sudden personality change. His intelligent, funny, levelheaded best friend was gone, a gooey-eyed git in his place.  
  
"There." Hermione said happily. "I finished my Potions homework."  
  
"And you wrote it," Harry observed, "in pink ink." Hermione blushed again, quickly rolling up her parchment and setting it aside.   
  
"Hermione, have you found the answer to number fifteen on our Transfiguration assignment?" Ron asked, tapping his quill on the table. "I've looked everywhere."  
  
"No, I haven't," Hermione replied, looking personally insulted by the fact that she couldn't find an answer. "I think I saw a book about root systems on the shelf over there."  
  
"Shall we go look through it?" Ron asked, pushing back his chair. Hermione nodded, and she and Ron traipsed across the library to look at the book, leaving Harry alone. They had flipped through several chapters when they heard a shriek from Harry's section of the library. They hurried back to find -   
  
"GINNY!"  
  
While Ron and Hermione were looking at the book, Ginny Weasley had come into the library and spied Harry. Now, Ginny was seated on top of the table in front of a wide-eyed Harry. As Ron and Hermione came running up, she seized either side of her blouse and ripped it open, exposing her lacy white bra to Harry and the rest of the library.   
  
"Now do you believe that I'm not a little girl?" Ginny demanded breathlessly, a rather sultry expression on her face.   
  
While Hermione stood frozen, her mouth in a big 'O,' Ron, blushing furiously, stomped up to Ginny, grabbed her arm, shot a glare at Harry, who was still gaping at her, and dragged her out of the library, through the castle, and back to Gryffendor Tower. Students in the hallway stopped to gawk and giggle at Ginny, who was still wearing her torn blouse and trying to kick Ron in the ankles.  
  
When they stumbled into the crowded Common Room, everything went silent. Fred and George, who were chatting with Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson on the couch, froze, and Ginny's friends burst into hysterical laughter.  
  
"What the hell is going on?" Fred demanded. "Ron, we've told you - Ginny is your sister, you've got to find someone else to fancy."  
  
"Haha." Ron said sarcastically. "Would you like to tell Fred and George what you did in the library?" He crossed his arms and glowered at his younger sister, a passable impression of Mrs. Weasley.   
  
"I'd like to get a new shirt," said Ginny, now more embarrassed than angry at Ron. She darted up the stairs, her hands over her face.   
  
"I don't understand it," Ron said wonderingly. "My little sister nearly rapes my best friend...and my other friend seems to have fallen in love with the Potions master. Haven't you noticed anyone acting strangely? Fred?" But Fred and George had already returned to the couch and were talking animatedly with Alicia and Angelina, who were watching them with moony expressions.   
  
All right, Ron thought resolvedly. It's up to me. If I want anything done, I've got to do it myself. I have to figure out why everyone is acting so lovesick. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him that nearly knocked him off his feet. How could he have missed it? Dobby! 


	6. The Tussle in the Tower or Ron's Discove...

Title: Brewing Trouble  
  
Rating: PG-13 (for mild language and slightly immature themes)  
  
Summary: Ron decides a love potion is the only way to make Hermione fall for him, and mayhem ensues when the effects of the potion go awry.  
  
Disclaimer: The plot of this story is mine, but everything else belongs to JK Rowling. Thanks so much for all the wonderful feedback, the reviews mean so much to me!  
  
Chapter 6 - The Tussle in the Tower (or Ron's Discovery)  
  
"How thick could I possibly be?" Ron berated himself as he ran through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts. To the amazement of everyone in the Common Room, he'd spun on his heel and dashed out through the portrait without a backward glance, much like Ginny had fled the Common Room moments before. Now, he was sneaking into the main hall; he hadn't thought to grab Harry's invisibility cloak, and he knew if he was caught he would be unable to figure out exactly was wrong with Harry and the others until the next evening, and he wasn't sure if he could take another day of Harry's mooning and Hermione's flirting.  
  
Glancing one way and then the other, Ron ducked into the corridor that led to the kitchen. He sprinted down the hall and fell upon the painting, scratching at the pear and twisting it as soon as it turned into a door handle. He stumbled into the kitchen.  
  
"Dobby? Dobby?" Ron called, his gaze traveling over the usually tidy kitchen. It was in a state of disarray from dinner an hour earlier (which he had skipped, his stomach noisily reminded him): dirty pots and pans were piled high and the rubbish bins were towering with scraps of food. House elves darted back and forth across the kitchen, some carrying stacks of plates, others using little brooms to sweep the crumbs on the floor into neat little piles.  
  
"Someone is calling Dobby?" Dobby up to Ron and his ugly face split into a wide grin. "Wheezy, sir! Wheezy is visiting Dobby twice in one week!" Before Dobby could attach himself to Ron's leg, Ron crouched down and seized Dobby by the shoulders.   
  
"Dobby, I want you to tell me exactly - exactly - what you did with that love potion," said Ron seriously.  
  
"Wheezy will be very happy!" Dobby exclaimed, clapping his gnarled hands together and taking a little leap. "Wheezy will be very pleased with Dobby!"  
  
"Try me," Ron said grimly.  
  
"Dobby is about to pour Wheezy's special treat into Miss Hermione's goblet when he thinks: if making Miss Hermione happy pleases Wheezy, Wheezy will be thrilled if Dobby makes everyone happy!" babbled Dobby.  
  
"What exactly did you do?" Ron gritted his teeth, trying not to shout.  
  
"Dobby gets this idea, sir, and Dobby pours all of Wheezy's special treat into the gravy tureen!"   
  
"WHAT?" Ron gripped Dobby very tightly by the neck of his oversized sweater vest. "I'm trying very hard to resist the urge to throttle you, Dobby."  
  
"Wheezy isn't pleased, sir?" Dobby ventured, his eyes growing very wide.  
  
"No, Wheezy isn't pleased! Wheezy is very angry!" Ron cried. "Dobby, you've made a mess of everything - that was a *love potion!* Now Harry is making a fool of himself over Hermione - Hermione! - and she...she fancies Snape," he concluded miserably.   
  
Dobby burst into tears. "Dobby is sorry, he is!" he blubbered, burying his face in Ron's robes. "Dobby isn't meaning to do any harm, Wheezy, Dobby is trying to please Wheezy, sir."  
  
"It doesn't matter that you didn't mean to, Dobby..." Ron trailed off. "Do you realize what we've done? The whole school eats gravy from that tureen! Who knows how many people are bewitched?" He stood up and headed for the door. "I've got to find the antidote, and quickly - before everyone is in as bad a state as Harry is."  
  
And he'd have to do it alone, he realized as he snuck back down the corridor, Dobby's sobs wafting down the hall after him. Harry was the only other one that knew about the potion, and it seemed to have affected him the most. Not only had he fallen for Hermione, it seemed as if that was the only thing he could think about. Ron cringed as he remembered the generous amounts of gravy Harry poured on his potatoes.   
  
First thing's first, he thought as he bounded up the stairs after glancing around the main hall. I'll look up the antidote in the potions book - good thing I kept it - and set about brewing it straightaway tomorrow. He wasn't sure how he'd manage to get everyone that had eaten the gravy to take the potion, but he'd worry about that later, he told himself as he crept down the hall, coming to a stop at the portrait that was the doorway to Gryffendor Tower.  
  
"Billywig!" Ron whispered, and the Fat Lady swung open to reveal complete chaos.  
  
The Common Room was resounding with whoops and cries and crashes. There was a cluster of eager Gryffendor boys in the corner of the room, howling and whistling and stomping their feet. A small knot of girls were in the other corner of the room, whispering and all looking rather alarmed, and many more students were hanging over the ledge looking down upon the fray. In the center of it all was -   
  
"Ginny? Hermione?" Ron exclaimed.  
  
Harry was sitting in an armchair looking very dazed and a little frightened. On one side of him was Ginny, perched lightly on the armrest of the chair. Her arms were folded and her face looked like a thundercloud. On the other side was Hermione, a hand on her hip, an impatient expression on her face as she tapped her foot.  
  
"What's going on?" Ron asked an excited first year, nearly falling over as Parvati Patel pushed past him.  
  
"There's going to be a fight!" The shorter boy crowed. "The redhead says the bushy-haired one is after her boyfriend! Boy, this is just like a daytime show!"  
  
"I've already told you once!" Ginny said, raising her voice to be heard over the din. "Harry is mine!"  
  
"I keep telling you," Hermione raged, "I don't want him! You're welcome to him! He's my friend, Ginny."  
  
"I don't believe that for a minute!" Ginny shouted, standing up. "You're in love with him! You've always been in love with him! And I'm prepared to fight you for him!"  
  
"Ron?" Harry said mildly from his seat in the center of the storm. "A little help?"  
  
But before Ron could move a muscle, Ginny - the usually calm, sweet Ginny - leapt on Hermione, and the room exploded. Ginny yanked Hermione hair; Hermione, in turn, swiftly kicked Ginny in the ankles. Ginny slipped and fell but not before seizing Hermione's skirt, which ripped as Ginny landed hard on her backside. Before Hermione could get away from her, Ginny kicked her, sending Hermione sprawling to the floor beside her.  
  
Ron, watching open-mouthed in horror, simply stood there. Honestly, he was a little afraid to get involved. He'd seen both Ginny and Hermione when they were mad, and this potion-intensified anger was very intimidating. As George ran by, Ron snagged his sleeve.  
  
"Help me break them up!" said Ron, but George shook his head.  
  
"Are you kidding? I've got a galleon on Hermione winning!" George exclaimed. "We could make a bloody fortune."  
  
"You're betting on the fight?" Ron said incredulously. "Wait - you didn't even bet on our sister?"  
  
"I know Ginny's got the whole redhead-temper bit," said George, "But Hermione's got a wicked backhand." With that, he darted off.  
  
Meanwhile, Ginny was twisting Hermione's arm behind her back as Hermione pinched Ginny's nose. Ron was steeling himself to enter the fray when the portrait swung open and in burst -   
  
"Malfoy?" Ron said. "What - how - what?" He glanced past Malfoy to see Parvati Patel and Bole, a Slytherin he recognized from Quidditch, hand in hand and smiling smugly.   
  
"Get away from her, mudblood!" Malfoy cried, whipping out his wand and aiming it at Hermione. "Stup-"  
  
"NO!" Harry suddenly came alive, sensing that the object of his affection was in danger. He dove at Malfoy, sending him sprawling backwards onto the floor.   
  
"Eeeeek!" Ron turned back to the original fight to see that Hermione had gained the upper hand. She had Ginny in a headlock, much like the one she herself had been put in by Millicent Bulstrode in their second year, and Ginny's face was rapidly turning the color of her hair.  
  
"Hermione - Hermione, she's my sister, don't kill her," Ron pleaded. "Just...let her go, okay?"  
  
"She said Professor Snape is an oily snake!" Hermione panted, her face purple with rage.   
  
"She didn't mean it!" Ron cried vainly. Ginny, sensing Hermione was distracted, broke free and ran for the stairs. Ron grabbed Hermione's arm as his sister fled. She soon appeared at the balcony, her cheeks pink.  
  
"I meant every word of it!" she shrieked triumphantly, sticking her tongue out. With a scream, Hermione ripped her arm away from Ron and stampeded up the stairs. Ginny's eyes widened as Hermione came barreling towards her and dove out of the way just in time. Unable to stop, Hermione skidded into the wall and fell to the floor again. Ginny whooped and turned back to the crowd in the Common Room, her arms held gleefully over her head.  
  
"Weasley!" shouted one of the Slytherins that had slipped in with Malfoy. "Show us your bludgers like you did in the library!"  
  
Ron spun around, a look of horror on his face. "That's my sister!" he bellowed.  
  
"You watch your filthy mouth!" howled Malfoy, who had, for the moment, broken free from Harry.   
  
"WHAT IS GOING ON?"  
  
Everything fell silent when Professor McGonagall stepped into the Common Room, her eyes widening as she took in Harry's bloody nose, Malfoy's black eye and torn vest, Ginny's disheveled appearance, and the complete disarray of the room. Hermione, her hand on her head, appeared at the balcony and looked ready to fall upon Ginny again until she saw McGonagall standing below.  
  
"Hello, Professor!" she called weakly.   
  
"Who would like to tell me why, at ten o'clock at night, Peeves reported to me about a tussle in my house's dormitory? I can see now," she continued, her voice trembling, "That he severely understated the matter. Mr. Malfoy, you and the rest of the Slytherins will return to your house at once - twenty points will be taken from your house for each member that is out of bed after hours." The Slytherins turned and shuffled out of the Tower, Malfoy bringing up the rear. Just before he left, he blew a kiss to Ginny, who scowled.   
  
"I will deal with the rest of you in the morning, when I've had time to think about what has happened here tonight," McGonagall said. "Let me just say that I am extremely disappointed in everyone that was involved in this...this brawl. You will be dealt with most severely at the proper time. Until then, everyone will go to bed immediately."  
  
Like magic, the Common Room cleared in less than a minute. Ron and Harry were the last to go upstairs, and Harry turned to Ron as they walked up the stairs.  
  
"D'you think this is the aggressive behavior you mentioned before?" Harry asked placidly. Ron stopped in his tracks.  
  
"You remember that?" he asked. He hadn't even told Harry about the whole gravy incident.  
  
"Ron, I'm in love, not completely out of my mind," Harry said wryly. "I know I've been in a bit of a fog today."  
  
"That's an understatement!" Ron exclaimed as the two boys walked into their dormitory. Ron shut the door and walked over to where Harry was changing into his pajamas. "So, you remember making the potion?"  
  
"Clearly," Harry said. "I'm just glad I haven't been affected."  
  
" You're..." Ron trailed off. "You're glad you haven't been affected," he repeated, sighing deeply.   
  
"I haven't quite figured out how everyone else got a dose of our potion," said Harry, "but I'm just really happy that I haven't lost my head."  
  
"You don't think it's a bit strange that you're in love with Hermione all of a sudden?" Ron asked sharply.  
  
"All of a sudden?" Harry repeated, button up his pajama top. "I've been in love with Hermione since first year."  
  
A/N: Nothing seems to be going right for poor Ron! Things are bound to improve eventually, right? 


	7. The Antidote

Title: Brewing Trouble  
  
Rating: PG-13 (for mild language and slightly (im)mature themes)  
  
Summary: Ron decides a love potion is the only way to make Hermione fall for him, and mayhem ensues when the effects of the potion go awry.  
  
Disclaimer: The plot of this story is mine, but everything else belongs to JK Rowling. Thank you for all the wonderful comments, please keep them coming, they're greatly appreciated! : )  
  
Chapter 7 - The Antidote  
  
So he was indeed on his own, Ron thought, staring into the darkness. It must have been two o'clock in the morning, and Ron hadn't slept a wink. He had lain in bed staring at the scarlet canopy hanging above his head for four hours. The bombshell that Harry dropped on him earlier that night had really shaken him. Pleading fatigue, he'd gone to bed right away, unable to look at Harry any more.  
  
Harry loved Hermione. Harry loved Hermione. Ron had no way of knowing whether it was the potion talking, or whether Harry was really, truly in love with Hermione. If only he could know for sure it was the potion, Ron thought, he'd be able to breathe much more easily. But what if it wasn't? What if Harry had loved Hermione just as long as Ron had? What would they do then? Would they go to Hermione and make her choose?   
  
Of course, she'd choose Harry, Ron thought bitterly. Why would she choose anyone else? Harry was famous. Harry was rich. Harry was everything he, Ron, wasn't. Suddenly, Ron felt very, very tired.  
  
The next morning, the Gryffendors gathered in the Common Room to hear their fates. Ron sat next to Hermione, unable to bring himself to sit near Harry.   
  
"Does it hurt?" Ron whispered to Hermione, who was sporting an impressive lump on her head.  
  
"A little," she whispered back. "I think my pride hurts worse than anything else. Oh Ron, I'm so sorry for getting into a fight with your sister. I wouldn't blame you if you don't want to sit with me." She glanced at Ginny, who was seated on the other side of the room.  
  
Before Ron could reply, the portrait swung open and a very grave-looking Professor McGonagall stepped into Gryffendor Tower, Professors Snape and Dumbledore on either side of her. McGonagall cleared her throat, folded her hands, and began to speak.  
  
"I hope," she said, "that I will never again see Hogwarts students - Gryffendor students - behaving in the way that so many behaved last night. I do not know the details and no one seems sure of how it all began, therefore everyone will be punished." A loud groan traveled around the Common Room. "Forty points will be deducted from this house for each person that I saw directly involved in the fight, and fifteen points will be taken away for each person that did not try to break up the fight or find a teacher.   
  
"In addition, for the next two months, you will all be escorted to your lessons by a teacher. You will eat your meals in the Great Hall and then go to class or return to the Tower immediately. Quidditch..." she paused and glanced at Professor Snape, "...will not be affected, although *some* believe Gryffendor should be banned from playing Quidditch for the year. You will, however, be ineligible for the House Cup at the end of the year."  
  
"I hope," Dumbledore stepped forward, "that from now on everyone will be more aware of how the actions of few can greatly affect the lives of many. I must echo Professor McGonagall's sentiment that I am saddened by what happened last night." He folded his hands, and Snape stepped forward. Hermione patted her hair and sat up a little straighter.  
  
"I can assure you," Snape added, "That the students of mine who were involved have been punished accordingly. As I understand it, however," he continued silkily, "Any Slytherin involved in the fight was simply defending himself - all violence was initiated by Gryffendors. I'm sure I can guess who is to blame."   
  
Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Snape glared first at him and then at Harry.   
  
"May I just say, Professor Snape - " Hermione began breathlessly, a doting look in her eye. Ron very carefully stepped squarely on her foot and she abruptly got quiet.   
  
"Classes will be starting in one hour. I suggest everyone come to the Great Hall for breakfast." McGonagall concluded. As she and the men left the Tower, the Gryffendors began to murmur and move around. Some followed the teachers to the Great Hall, others stayed where they were to grumble about the loss of points.  
  
"Are you coming for breakfast?" Harry asked, approaching Ron and Hermione. Completely unaware of the look Ron was shooting him, he smiled blithely at Hermione.  
  
"Sure, let's go." Hermione said, standing up. "Coming Ron?"  
  
"You go ahead," Ron said reluctantly. "I've got to...do - something." He watched Harry and Hermione step through the portrait, a knot forming in his stomach. The last thing he really wanted to do was send Harry off alone with Hermione, but he needed to scour that stupid pink potions book for the antidote.  
  
He hurried upstairs and into the dormitory, locking the door behind him. He pulled the book out of his trunk and sat down by the window. "Devotion draughts...beauty brews...the ultimate love potion!" He scanned the page quickly, reading over the list of ingredients and the cautionary note at the bottom about dazed or aggressive behavior. "Please be an antidote, please, please..." Ron whispered. "Ha!" He practically jumped out of his seat when he saw the note at the bottom. "For an antidote to this passionate potion, see page 130." He quickly flipped to page 130 and nearly cried with relief at the big, scripted 'Antidote' at the top of the page.  
  
"Crushed dandelion root, some more ginger root, powdered horn of erumpent, a cupful of flobberworm secretion..." Ron let the book fall closed as he leaned his head against the wall. Here, at his fingertips, was the answer to the problem that had, in just a few short days, caused madness and mayhem throughout the school. If he got moving, he could mix it up and have it finished in time for dinner that night - Dobby would surely, in an attempt to redeem himself, slip it into the dinner that night. But he'd have to get moving.  
  
Ron shut the book, tucked it under his arm, grabbed his potion set, and unlocked the dormitory door. There was still three-quarters of an hour left before the first class started; he'd be able to get the potion mixed and could probably slip back during lunch to check on it.  
  
"Hi Ron." Lavender Brown appeared suddenly in front of the portrait. She wore a fuzzy maroon sweater and a huge smile.  
  
"Hi Lavender," Ron replied, trying to step around her.   
  
"I thought you were very brave last night," said Lavender, blinking rapidly.  
  
"Got an eyelash in your eye?" Ron asked impatiently. Why wouldn't she move? He tried to step around her again, but she blocked the portrait with an arm on either side of the opening.  
  
"There's no point, Ron," she said, tossing her long hair.  
  
"Er - okay," said Ron. Silly girl. She'd probably taken a look at his tealeaves one afternoon and decided he was fated to be crushed by a mad dragon.   
  
"You feel it. I feel it. Why don't we just give into our feelings?" Lavender said flirtatiously. Ron gulped.  
  
"Er, Lavender, you've got it all wrong. I - I have to go," Ron said, his palms beginning to sweat.  
  
"Not without me!" Lavender said gaily, moving forward. She spread her arms, obviously hoping for a hug, but Ron ducked under her outstretched arms and darted out of the Tower. He chuckled at her shriek of rage and took off towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He stumbled into the bathroom and plunked everything down beside the sinks. He propped the book open on the floor beside him and set up his cauldron.  
  
"'Two roots each of ginger and dandelion,'" Ron read, squinting down at the book. He quickly pulled the roots out of his box and ground them up a bit with his pestle. "'One-quarter of a powdered erumpent horn.'" Ron removed a small vial from his potions set, twisted off the cap, and tapped some of the whitish powder into the cauldron.  
  
"Back again, are you?"  
  
Ron jumped as Moaning Myrtle floated through a stall door, an inquisitive look on her face. She picked absentmindedly at a spot on her chin as she peered into the cauldron.  
  
"Brewing up some more trouble, are you?" she shrieked suddenly, frightening Ron again. "Didn't your last potion work?"  
  
"A little too well," Ron muttered, screwing the cap back onto the vial and placing it back in his potions set.   
  
"It's not polite to mutter!" Myrtle screeched. "Olive Hornby always used to mutter mean things about me to the other girls during Potions. She was such a nasty girl - so mean to poor, sad, lonely Myrtle." With a loud sob, Myrtle floated back into her stall and Ron heaved a sigh of relief.   
  
"'A cupful of flobberworm secretion to thicken the potion,'" Ron read. "'Then let boil for half an hour, skim, and bottle.' Sounds simple enough." He poured a cupful of the flobberworm mucus (it was quite nasty-looking, really) into the cauldron and began packing up his things. If he timed it right, breakfast would be ending and it would be time for Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid and the Hufflepuffs. He could slip back during lunch to finish the potion.  
  
Things were not as simple as Ron thought they would be. The teachers were watching the Gryffendor students very closely, and Ron had to pretend he was ready to throw up in order to get out of the Great Hall. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lavender Brown hurrying to catch up with him. He ran down the corridor, checking over his shoulder every few seconds, until he got to the bathroom.   
  
He skidded to a stop by the sinks. "Incendio!" he said breathlessly, aiming his wand at the counter. When the familiar circle of flames popped up, he levitated the cauldron over them and let it hover while he caught his breath. Thankfully, Myrtle did not appear again, and Ron was able to skim and bottle the potion without any interruptions. He held the murky brown potion up to the light and shrugged.   
  
"Part one is finished," he said to himself. "On to the kitchen."  
  
It was much easier to get into the kitchen than it had been the previous times. The halls were deserted as everyone was eating lunch, and Ron easily strolled over to the painting and tickled the pear. The kitchen was different as well - numerous house elves were slumped over on chairs and on the floor, panting and mopping their foreheads with rags, obviously exhausted from the meal they had just prepared. Sprawled in front of the fireplace was Dobby. Ron hurried over to him and crouched down.  
  
"Dobby, I need another favor," he whispered. Dobby raised his head and scrubbed at his tearstained cheeks with gauze-wrapped fists.   
  
"Is it really Wheezy?" Dobby breathed, blinking rapidly. "Dobby is thinking that Wheezy is hating Dobby and is never coming back!"  
  
Ron shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry I shouted at you, Dobby," he said sincerely, "I was angry."  
  
"Dobby is very sorry, Wheezy sir!" Dobby said, bobbing his head. "Dobby is burning his fingers on the oven." He held up his bandaged hands.   
  
"There's one more thing I need you to do," Ron said, handing Dobby the antidote. "Pour this in the gravy or the soup or whatever we're having tonight - it will fix everything that went wrong before."  
  
"Dobby will do it, Wheezy!" Dobby exclaimed, tucking the potion in his shirt pocket. "Dobby is doing anything to make Wheezy happy with him!"  
  
"Thank you," Ron said, standing up. He gave a little wave at the other house elves, who wearily waggled their long, bony fingers at him. As he furtively crept back down the hall, he realized that now all he could do was what he'd been doing so much of the past few days: wait.  
  
A/N: Two chapters left! Will poor Ron finally straighten everything out? 


	8. Apologies

Title: Brewing Trouble  
  
Rating: PG-13 (for mild language and slightly (im)mature themes)  
  
Summary: Ron decides a love potion is the only way to make Hermione fall for him, and mayhem ensues when the effects of the potion go awry.  
  
Disclaimer: The plot of this story is mine, but everything else belongs to JK Rowling. I appreciate the reviews so much, please keep the feedback coming!  
  
Chapter 8 - Apologies  
  
The rest of the day passed in a blur of ink and daydreams. They took notes in Transfiguration and History of Magic, and Ron couldn't remember a word of what he wrote. He scrawled half of what was said and spent most of the class time in a daze. Would the antidote work? How long would it take? What if some of the people that were affected didn't take the antidote? Ron's stomach began to ache as he followed the others to the Great Hall. He sat down beside Hermione and across from Harry. The tables were already covered with food, and Ron was very relieved to see that there was a bowl of steaming tomato soup at every place.  
  
Please let Dobby have done his job, Ron thought as he picked up his spoon. He took a mouthful of soup and felt himself relax - he was positive he could taste a tiny hint of ginger.   
  
"I would have preferred pea soup," Hermione said, pushing her bowl to the side and slicing herself a piece of bread from the loaf in the middle of the table. "I'm not too fond of tomato."  
  
"It's very good!" Ron said, feeling himself break into a sweat. "You ought to try some. Right Harry?" He stared meaningfully at Harry.   
  
"I love tomato soup," Harry said cheerily, slurping up a spoonful. He blinked.  
  
"Then you can have mine if you like," Hermione said, buttering her bread. Ron reached over and spooned up a little soup from Hermione's bowl. He held the spoon at her lips and nodded encouragingly. "What are you doing?" Hermione asked, her brows knit.   
  
"It's very good - you really ought to try it," Ron babbled nervously, his hand quivering.  
  
"I don't want any soup." Hermione said stubbornly.  
  
"Just try the soup." Ron growled. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him but finally opened her mouth. Ron fed her the spoonful of soup and quickly filled the spoon with more which Hermione reluctantly swallowed, watching Ron critically the entire time. When the bowl was half empty, Hermione looked away and cleared her throat, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.  
  
"That's enough of that," she muttered, fumbling for her knife. Ron, pleased, sat back in his chair as Harry finished the last of his soup. He happily noted that Ginny had eaten all of her soup and Lavender was nearly done with hers.  
  
Better safe than sorry, thought Ron and drained the last of his soup.  
  
The next morning, Ron awoke just before breakfast. He had fallen into an uneasy slumber around one o'clock in the morning and didn't feel particularly rested. Now he would see whether or not his work had paid off. He quickly dressed and hurried down to the Great Hall. It was buzzing with lively chatter, and one of the first things Ron noticed was that Parvati Patel, who had been sitting at the Slytherin table with Bole, was back in her usual place at the Gryffendor table and was talking animatedly with Lavender Brown. Lavender reddened when she saw Ron and quickly turned back to her conversation with Parvati.   
  
Ron drew up a chair at the end of the table, away from the others, and helped himself to eggs and toast. He was just reaching for a piece of crisp bacon when a voice from behind him said, "Mind if I join you?"   
  
Harry sat down across from Ron and reached for the plate of waffles. He kept his eyes on his plate as he began to eat but suddenly set his silverware down on the table and looked at Ron.  
  
"Ron...I'm sorry," Harry said. "I've felt so strange the past few days, and when I woke up this morning it was like all the fog in my head had cleared and I...I reckon I haven't been a very good friend."  
  
"You couldn't help it," Ron replied gruffly, stabbing a piece of scrambled egg.  
  
"It was so odd," Harry continued. "I woke up the day after we made the potion and felt so cheery - and I got even happier when I saw Hermione coming out of the girl's dormitory. I knew in the back of my mind that you liked her, but I kind of...I didn't care. I thought I loved her. Can you forgive me?"  
  
Ron paused. "There's one thing I need to know first, Harry," he said, "Was the potion completely to blame for the way you acted?"  
  
"What?" said Harry.  
  
"The night before last you told me that you'd been in love with Hermione since first year," Ron said uncomfortably, "And you seemed more clear-headed than you had been. And I wasn't sure whether or not that was just the potion or if you really felt that way."   
  
"Ron," said Harry seriously, "Hermione is yours. I don't love her. I don't think of her as anything more than my friend. Actually," he continued, flushing, "there's someone else that I think I might have feelings for."  
  
"Really?" Ron said interestedly. "Who?"  
  
Before Harry could reply, Ginny Weasley, blushing brilliantly, came up to them. "Sorry to interrupt," she said meekly. "Harry, I - I just wanted to apologize for what happened that night at dinner - and then in the library...and then in the Tower..." she trailed off, blushing to the roots of her hair.   
  
"That's all right," Harry said, his own cheeks still a little pink, "I've been acting a little strangely myself, Ginny; I think everyone has." He glanced at Ron. "Would you like to have breakfast with us?"  
  
"Sure." Ginny sat down beside Harry and glanced shyly at him as she helped herself to a muffin. Just as the three were beginning to eat and chat about other things, Malfoy stormed into the Great Hall. His normally perfect blonde hair was messy and he had grayish circles under his eyes. When he walked past the Gryffendor table, he caught sight of Ginny and nearly tripped over his own feet.  
  
"What are you staring at, Weasley?" he spat at Ginny. Ginny simply smiled as Malfoy stomped off.   
  
"Yeah, things are back to normal," Harry laughed as Malfoy began to shout at Goyle, who had taken Malfoy's usual seat. Suddenly, Harry leaned forward. "Ron, what about Hermione? Have you seen her yet this morning?"  
  
"I haven't," Ron replied, suddenly losing his appetite. "I thought she'd have come down for breakfast by now."  
  
"I didn't see her in the bathroom this morning," Ginny said, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "I haven't seen her since last night. I really ought to apologize to her," she added, coloring.   
  
"D'you think I should go look for her?" Ron asked. "What if she's sick?"  
  
"I don't see why she'd be sick, but maybe we ought to find her anyway. In case the potion hasn't worked," Harry said.  
  
"If you don't mind," said Ron, "I think I'll go alone." He rose from the table. "All right, Harry?" he asked quietly, looking back at his friend.  
  
Harry broke into a smile. "All right," he replied, his eyes sparkling.   
  
Relieved, Ron hurried from the Great Hall and up to Gryffendor Tower. The Common Room was deserted, and Ron had a feeling that Hermione wasn't in the library, although she had been known to skip a day's worth of meals in order to devote more time to her schoolwork.   
  
"Hermione?" Ron called, one foot on the first step. There was no reply, so he slowly climbed the stairs to the girls' dormitories and came to a stop outside the door marked fifth-years. "Hermione?" he rapped his knuckles on the door. "Hermione?" He reached for the doorknob.  
  
Suddenly, the door flew open and Ron found himself face to face with a wild-eyed Hermione, and she was madder than he'd ever seen her before.  
  
A/N: One more chapter to go! Hope everyone enjoyed chapter 8! 


	9. Confrontation and Conclusion

Title: Brewing Trouble  
  
Rating: PG-13 (for mild language and slightly immature themes)  
  
Summary: Ron decides a love potion is the only way to make Hermione fall for him, and mayhem ensues when the effects of the potion go awry.  
  
Disclaimer: The plot of this story is mine, but everything else belongs to JK Rowling. Please review - I really appreciate feedback!  
  
With her hair sticking out at all angles and her eyes as wide as saucers, Hermione very much resembled a banshee - and Ron was sure it was only a matter of time before she started screaming like one too.  
  
"WHAT DID YOU DO?" Hermione shrieked, two spots of color appearing on her cheeks. Ron began to back away from her but she grabbed him by the collar of his robes and yanked him into the room, slamming the door behind him. She pushed him onto the nearest bed, where he sat, hands folded, like a small child being scolded.   
  
"How did you know it was something I did?" he asked meekly, wincing when she turned on him.  
  
"I'm a smart girl, Ron!" she cried. "I find myself developing a huge crush on Professor Snape the day after you and Harry are watching me at dinner like I'm a science experiment. And then last night you practically shoved that tomato soup down my throat and it didn't taste right - and I wasn't so obsessed with Snape that I didn't notice how everyone else was behaving. Ginny throwing herself at Harry, Harry falling for me..."  
  
"So...can we have a good laugh about it then?" asked Ron weakly. Hermione swooped at him, placing a hand on either side of the bed where he was sitting and thrusting her face in his so their noses were nearly touching.   
  
"No," said Hermione very carefully, "No. We. Can't. Have. A good. Laugh. About it." With every word, she leaned closer and closer to Ron until he was nearly lying down on the bed. He pushed her off of him and pulled himself up to his full height.  
  
"I don't know why you're so upset," Ron said, "It really was kind of funny."  
  
"KIND OF FUNNY?" Hermione shrieked. "You weren't the one making goo-goo eyes at Snape all through Potions! You weren't the one following him around like a little puppy dog. You weren't the one - "  
  
"No!" Ron shouted back. "I wasn't! But I was the one that had to watch you do all of that!"  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione demanded, crossing her arms.   
  
"Nothing. Nothing." Ron scowled.   
  
"I don't understand it," Hermione said, "You humiliate me and who knows how many others and now you're sulking and getting mad at me! You're so big-headed, Ron!"   
  
"Big-headed? I came here to check on you, make sure you're okay!" Ron exclaimed. "How is that big-headed?"  
  
"You haven't even asked me how I am!" Hermione cried. "You haven't explained one thing to me - I'm not some silly little girl you can play games with, Ron."  
  
"I think you're just mad because you actually felt something for once instead of just reading about it in a book!" Ron shot back. Hermione turned bright red as he continued, slowly approaching her. "You bury yourself in the library, in books, because it's safe. And now that you've actually felt something for someone - and Vicky-git doesn't count - you're mad at me because I showed you that you have weaknesses and you're not perfect."  
  
Before Ron knew what was happening, Hermione slapped him across the face. She turned on her heel and fled the dormitory, Ron close behind. At the bottom of the stairs she spun around.  
  
"You don't understand, do you?" she wailed. "You never understand, Ron!"   
  
"I understand perfectly!" Ron roared.  
  
"No you don't!" Hermione screamed. "You made a fool of me, and you don't see what's the matter with that! I threw myself at my *teacher*, Ron, my *teacher*! I got into a *physical* fight with your sister! I have a lump the size of an egg on my head because you're too stupid to plan ahead and see how your actions can affect others!"  
  
They were nose and nose again, and Ron was sorely tempted to slap her. His ears felt hot as he shouted, "If I'm so stupid, how did I manage to brew that bloody potion without your help?"  
  
"YOU'RE MISSING THE POINT AGAIN!" Hermione bellowed.  
  
"THEN TELL ME WHAT THE BLOODY POINT IS SO WE CAN GET ON WITH IT!" Ron yelled. "What, are you mad because now Harry won't be interested in you? Is that it? You've wanted him all along, haven't you?"  
  
"If you'd just listen to one word that I'm saying -   
  
"I was listening until you started calling me stupid!" Ron hollered. "You can call me whatever you like, but sometimes you're so unbearable, Hermione! You act like you're better than everyone else when you're not."  
  
Hermione was starting to cry now. "I don't want Harry and I don't think I'm better than you," she sobbed. "Why did you brew that bloody potion in the first place? What was the point?"  
  
"You think it's all about you, don't you?" Ron shouted, aware that it was indeed all about Hermione. "Who's the big-headed one now?"  
  
"Just shut up! If you'd just shut up for one minute - "  
  
"No! I think you need to shut up!" Ron shot back. "You've always thought you were better than me! You think you're so smart and perfect, but you're not! For one in your life you looked like a fool - welcome to my life, Hermione. God. For a clever witch, *you* can be really stupid sometimes."  
  
Hermione had backed against the wall as Ron shouted at her, and now she began to sob harder, staring up at Ron as tears streamed down her cheeks.  
  
"How dare you?" she sobbed. "All I meant was that you need to think about what you're doing before you do it! You need to think about other people's feelings, Ron! You really, really upset me - I thought there was something seriously wrong with me because all of a sudden I couldn't stop thinking about Snape! Do you have any idea how that feels, to be completely obsessed with someone to the point that you'd rather follow them and think about them than eat or sleep or do anything else?"  
  
Ron was silent as Hermione took a ragged breath. He stared down at her almost tenderly as she slumped against the stone and sniffled.   
  
"All I meant," Hermione continued quietly, staring unblinkingly up at Ron, "Is that you need to realize you can't toy with people for your amusement, that you need to be more responsible and think about how other people will react to what you do. You need to anticipate -"  
  
"Anticipate this," said Ron, and he kissed her. As his lips touched hers, he realized that he was living the moment that he'd dreamed about for four long years. After this, there would be no question in Hermione's mind about how he felt about her. Would she confess her own secret romantic feelings for him? Or would she push him away from her and continue her lecture? Ron had no idea, but right now all he could think about was how wonderful it felt to finally be kissing Hermione - and judging by the way she was kissing him back, she'd been keeping a secret similar to his for quite a while.  
  
They parted breathlessly, and Ron realized his arms were wrapped around her waist and she had twined her arms around his neck. They stared at each other, not moving, then simultaneously stepped towards each other, their mouths eagerly meeting again. Ron could feel Hermione trembling in his arms, and he finally broke off the kiss, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of her eyes.  
  
"I'm so sorry." They both said together. They both laughed.   
  
"Let me go first," Ron said, clasping Hermione's hands tightly in his. "The first night back, I got the stupid idea to make a potion - a diluted love potion - " he hastily added " - just to make you like me a little more. You know, be a little more...receptive to what I was planning on telling you."  
  
"Which is?" Hermione asked, her voice quivering.  
  
"That I've liked you since first year and have been too much of a bloody chicken to tell you," Ron said, "and you have to believe me, Hermione, I never thought that what happened would happen. I gave Dobby the potion to pour into your goblet but instead he poured it in the gravy tureen and everyone was affected." Hermione put her hand over her mouth. "And then I had to rush and find the antidote before things got really out of hand and...I'm really sorry, Hermione, honestly, I am."  
  
Hermione was completely silent for a moment before bursting into laughter and tears at the same time. "You stupid boy," she said affectionately, "I like you too."  
  
Ron was dumbstruck. He'd had an inkling after Hermione kissed him back the way she did but hearing her say those words was still a little surprising. "You do?"  
  
"Of course I do!" Hermione exclaimed. "I got so upset about the potion because I knew you had something to do with it somehow and I couldn't believe you'd act so irresponsibly and then not even care that I - that I didn't seem to like you the way I had before."  
  
"So...really what you're saying is basically that you were mad because my potion made you not like me anymore?" Ron asked in wonder.   
  
"Yes!" cried Hermione. "I knew that a potion or spell had to be responsible for my sudden change in heart, but I couldn't understand why it wouldn't just make me like you more." She flung her arms around him, burying her head against his shoulder. "Ron, I'm so sorry I said those awful things to you. And I'm really sorry I slapped you, really."  
  
"It's all right," Ron said, stroking her hair. "So...you really do like me?"  
  
Hermione laughed and, standing on her tiptoes, kissed him on the lips again. "Yes," she said, "I really do like you. Although," she added, "It was very irresponsible of you to make a potion like that. And especially without following the recipe to the letter. And - "  
  
"Hermione," said Ron, "Don't ruin it." And he silenced her with another kiss.  
  
  
  
A quarter of an hour later, Hermione and Ron strolled into the Great Hall arm-in-arm. Hermione had washed her face and combed her hair and performed an anti-bruising charm on Ron to completely erase the evidence of their fight. Unless you counted their new relationship as evidence - Hermione was beaming and Ron, though he thought his ears might be permanently bright red, couldn't remember the last time he felt this happy. They walked up to the Gryffendor table, where Harry and Ginny were sitting very close together, talking animatedly. Ron cleared his throat.  
  
"So you're - oh!" A grin spread across Harry's face. "I take it everything is all right between you two?"  
  
"Better than all right," Hermione said, leaning her head on Ron's shoulder.   
  
"We had an awful row earlier in the Tower but once we calmed down and talked, everything kind of sorted itself out," Ron said, smiling at Hermione.   
  
"So, it's official? You're a couple, then?" Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"We are!" Hermione said joyfully.  
  
"Then we've got a bit of news as well," Ginny said, glancing at Harry.   
  
"After you left, we started talking," Harry began.  
  
"And we started realizing how much we really have in common and how well we get along," Ginny continued.  
  
"And after the potion wore off and I started thinking about everything that happened," said Harry, "I realized that I'd been missing something that was staring in me in the face the whole time."  
  
Hermione's mouth was open in an 'O' of delight, but Ron was still waiting for the great revelation. "So?" he asked, "What have you been missing?"  
  
"Oh Ron!" Hermione squealed. "I knew it! They fancy each other!"   
  
Ron turned to look at Harry and Ginny, both of whom looked rather sheepish but also very happy. "Really?" he said incredulously. "You two?"  
  
"Er, yes." Harry said, and it was then that Ron noticed the two were holding hands under the table.  
  
"You aren't upset, are you?" Ginny asked Ron tentatively.  
  
Ron shook his head dumbly. "I never thought it would actually happen - my best friend and my little sister..."  
  
"I knew it!" Hermione crowed, throwing her arms around Ginny. "I just knew you two would get together someday!"  
  
"And we knew the same about you," Harry said wryly.  
  
"You knew she liked me?" Ron exclaimed indignantly.  
  
"I had a feeling," Harry said modestly.  
  
"I knew she did," Ginny piped up, "She told me. And I was positive you liked her, Ron - I was just waiting for the time when you two would get over your embarrassment and admit it to each other."  
  
"Looks like we have," Hermione said, smiling up at Ron.   
  
"I know fifth year is just beginning," Ron said, "But this seems like the time for a 'happily ever after,' don't you think?"  
  
The end.  
  
A/N: I would just like to again thank everyone who posted reviews and e-mailed me about this story. I'm so, so happy with the overwhelmingly positive feedback it has received, and I'm well on the way to finishing a second fic. Thanks, everyone: you all making writing worth it. :-) 


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